


Only Now

by Avocado



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cunnilingus, ENDGAME CANON CHARACTER DEATH, Endgame Hulk, F/M, Falling In Love, Hand Jobs, Hulk - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, READER USES GENDER NEUTRAL PRONOUNS BUT HAS A VAGINA, Reader Has Powers, Size Difference, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, also Star Wars references, gentle humour, mentions of depression, not quite canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-05-01 17:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19182238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avocado/pseuds/Avocado
Summary: Falling in love with Bruce Banner took time.





	Only Now

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant to be a lot shorter than it ended up lmao
> 
> also you may ask "avocado how does this fit in with ragnarok and the start of infinity war?" and to that i say "uhhhh" and run away

i.

“So, how about it?”

 

Tony Stark has always appeared pretty chilled out on the news. You’d thought it was just an act, another billionaire trying to pretend he’s a friend of the people. But in real life you see it really  _ isn’t  _ a mask. He’s just… like this. 

 

He takes a swig of coffee and raises his eyebrows over the rim of the cup. It’s an old one your parents let you have when you moved in. It’s got cats on it. It feels a bit silly that it’s also what you gave Iron Man to drink from. 

 

“I don’t know, Mr Stark-”

 

“Tony,” he interrupts. 

 

“Tony,” you repeat, the word sounding heavy and odd on your tongue. “I’m not sure why you’d want me on your team.” He shoots you another look and you scramble to add on, “I’m not that special.”

 

“Are you sure about that?” he asks and gestures around the room. You follow him and notice everything in the room has risen about six inches in the air. You wince. 

 

“Ah, sorry.” You close your eyes and concentrate, gently settling everything back down. Telekinesis was not the easiest thing to control, especially when strong emotions could make it flare up unexpectedly. 

 

“I’m not gonna force you to do anything. I just think, from our side, you’d make a great addition to the team. And you get a place where you can hone your powers safely, and people can help you understand them.”

 

You look down at your hand and flex your fingers. Well, apart from your parents in a city over and being a jobless recent graduate, what more have you really got? Maybe this way you could use this…  _ thing  _ you had for good. 

 

“Just one thing Mr St- uh, Tony.”

 

“Shoot.”

 

“I uh, just got my engineering degree. Do you think I could get an actual job with you too?”

 

He gives you a huge grin. 

 

“I’m sure we can work something out.”

  
  
  


ii.

You move into the Avengers Tower the next week. It’s all a bit much. Your life has taken a complete 180 from where it was before. Your new room there is as big as the whole apartment you previously lived in - sporting its own lounge area and exercise room as well as double bed and ensuite. 

 

Tony takes you round and introduces you to everyone. That’s intimidating too. You’ve seen the guys on the TV saving, you know, the  _ world.  _ It takes you aback a bit for your first real life interaction with Hawkeye to be that he’s complaining someone has eaten his Cheerios.

 

They all seem okay, though. Thor gives you a huge smile and a firm pat on the back and welcomes you to the team. Natasha and Clint seem to have their own clique but aren’t necessarily unfriendly. 

 

It’s when you’re taken into the lab that your heart skips a beat. 

 

“Bruce, get your nose out of the computer for three seconds and meet the new recruit.”

 

He looks up and you feel a funny little jig in your chest. He’s very handsome. Kind of nerdy, kind of awkward, definitely your type. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and gives you a smile as he crosses the room, walking away from his workstation.

 

“It’s good to put a face to a name. I’m Dr Bruce Banner, nice to meet you,” he says. His hand is warm and strong when he shakes your own. 

 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Dr Banner.”

 

“Just Bruce, please.”

 

“Okay, Bruce,” you say, and his name feels a lot easier in your mouth than Tony’s did.

 

“You might recognise Bruce’s other half a bit better,” Tony clarifies, and for a moment the word choice makes you worry, until he gestures to a hologram he’s brought up. It’s of the Hulk, mid-smash, roaring into the sky.

 

“That’s... you’re the Hulk?” you ask. Bruce smiles tersely at Tony.

 

“I guess we might as well get it all out now. Yeah, that’s… me.”

 

“Oh,” you say. You can’t stop looking at the Hulk’s chest. Wondering if Bruce looks the same underneath that shirt, the sleeves of which have been rolled up above the forearms, teasing at a hint of muscle. 

 

“Uh, Mr Stark-!”

 

You catch the worried look of one of the lab tech assistants, as you notice everything in a ten-foot circle around you has floated up and started to spin around the lab. You let out a squeak and try to undo it, but instead everything clatters to the floor. You feel yourself flush in embarrassment and croak out a ‘I’m sorry!’

 

“Well,” says Tony, “guess your first lab job tomorrow will be fixing everything up here.”

 

You hide in your room for the rest of the day.

  
  
  


iii.

The woman who is assigned to help mentor you is named Wanda, the Scarlet Witch. She doesn’t seem particularly thrilled about it and you get the impression she Doesn’t Want To Be There. Every time you mess something up she rolls her eyes and says, “no, like  _ this,” _ before doing it perfectly with her red mist flooding the room. Once you asked her to elaborate on what ‘this’ meant exactly and she gave you a look that made whatever confidence you had to start with shrivel up.

 

But generally they make an effort. Steve is a sweetheart and always does his best to keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t get too stressed. He also runs you through physical fitness drills which is thoroughly needed because you forgot how unhealthy a three-year university diet of ramen really was. He’s full of praise whenever you improve on your track time or get out of a chokehold and you start to feel maybe you can do this after all.

 

On the other side of it, lab work keeps you busy most other days. Tony asks a lot of work from you but you’re glad - it actually feels like you’re being valued. Mostly what you do it make repairs and modifications to his suits but it’s fascinating seeing inside one of New York’s biggest faces.

 

And between lab work and trying to work with the rest of the team, the person you spend the most time with is Bruce. He’s very sweet and is encouraging of your confidence in the lab - you make smalltalk whenever the two of you are together and you blush every time he gives you a compliment. Things are kind of slow at first, neither of you being sure how to talk to the other, but you fall into an easy pattern of work and camaraderie.  _ He’s easy on the soul as well as the eyes,  _ you think to yourself when you’re feeling particularly poetic.

 

“I’m glad I have you around,” he says one day. 

 

“Ah- oh?” you ask, shyness meaning you’re not quite able to meet his eyes.

 

“No I don’t mean- well I do, I’m glad that- I uh, it’s good you’re a member of the team. Both the uh, team team, and in the lab,” he eventually manages. 

 

“Oh. Yeah, me too. I like working with you Bruce,” you say, and smile. It knocks him a bit and he drops something on the floor, apologising as he picks it up, but you don’t mind - it allows you to secretly settle the desk you’re working at back onto the floor from where it was gently floating away.

 

Maybe it’s flirting? It’s hard to tell. You’re both socially awkward and you figure it’s not really enough to have anyone catch on about it and bring it up. Except, of course, for the other person you’re working with constantly.

 

“What’s your intentions with Dr Banner?” Tony asks one day when Bruce is out of the lab. 

 

“I… don’t have any intentions,” you say. It comes out uncomfortably high and squeaky. You’ve never been a good liar. Your intentions are to kiss him. A lot.

 

“I see the way the two of you look at each other. You’ve only been here for two months but he’s taken to you faster than any new members of the team.”

 

“Really?” you ask, trying not to reveal any cautious optimism that Tony can tease you for.

 

“Yeah. But if you’re gonna fool around, don’t do it in the lab. I don’t want anything incriminating on my suit,” he says, and walks out quickly. You go to chase after him and give him a piece of your mind but become distracted by the blueprints he’s left behind, clearly fanned out so you can see. You take a look. 

 

They’re schematics for bracers, and as far as you can make out, they’re designed… for you. To use Stark technology to help you control your telekinesis, channel it better. You take a moment to look through the leafs of paper, trying to get an understanding on how they work, when your eye is distracted by what appears to be an email that’s been printed off. Between Bruce and Tony. Where Bruce lays out the idea for this armour, and discusses how they work. And asks Tony not to tell you it was his idea because he doesn’t want to come across as too overbearing. And then you see the email where Tony replies that his lips are sealed, and in biro beneath where he’s drawn a winky face. 

 

You roll your eyes and clutch the piece of paper to your heart. 

  
  
  


iv.

“You holding up okay?”

 

Tony’s voice is static-heavy through the comms. You cough violently, shielding your face from the dust which has been blown up from the rubble. 

 

“Yeah, but I can’t see any of you,” you reply. “I’m gonna try going up.”

 

“Keep safe,” he says, before cutting the line. You adjust your braces at your wrists and concentrate, feeling the energy buzz around you. Slowly, you feel the ground leave your tiptoes and the dust clear from the air. Flight still isn’t something you’ve quite got a handle on yet - 

 

_ You flash back to Vision suggesting you try out the idea, and then you looking around uncomfortably at the rest of the team all watching. You’re terrified of letting people down. But, when your gaze skirts to Bruce and he gives you an encouraging smile, you feel that first time lifting your feet off the ground is as natural as breathing. Everyone had been very proud. Even Wanda given you a, ‘well done, little oddball.’ _

 

\- but every day you practice it gets easier. About fifty feet in the air you take a look around and survey your surroundings. There was an attack on New York, some anti-Avengers gang putting the lives of civilians at risk. It was your first proper mission too. You’d been scared but these past four months of constant training had paid off - both you and your assailant had equal looks of shock on your faces when you’d stopped the missile he’d shot at you from a rocket launcher in midair. 

 

(You needed to work on your hero face. You couldn’t let them  _ know  _ you were always thinking ‘what do I do what do I do oh god’.)

 

Everything seems to have calmed down thankfully, despite the rubble and various fires that seemed to be a constant in New York since the Avengers had settled. You try and spot anyone who’s on your side, scanning the ground and sky alike - and then you see him. The Hulk on the top of one of the ruined buildings, still a few storeys above street level, smashing someone or something that is clearly no longer a threat. 

 

You should probably wait for Tony to turn up with the Hulkbuster. That would be the sensible thing to do. And yet, you find yourself rising through the air towards him.

 

After hovering a few feet behind him for a moment, the Hulk notices your presence and loses interest in whatever he was doing. The two of you watch each other for a while at a standstill. 

 

“Hey,” you say after a while. The Hulk eyes you up and down and gives a grunt of acknowledgement. 

 

“Do you know who I am?” you go on to ask softly. He nods. Sensing the conversation seems to be going well so far you gently touch down on the side of the building. Hulk begins to growl, squaring up, but you put your hands up to show you don’t mean any harm and he deflates again. He looks you up and down, slowly, considering you. 

 

“Bruce likes,” he states. Oh. Well,  _ that’s  _ certainly going to have to be something you explore later. But for now you cough and ask,

 

“Do you like me?”

 

He ponders this again for a moment before he gives his answer. 

 

“Hulk like. Pretty and strong.”

 

“Oh,” you do say it out loud then, the warmth of embarrassment rising up your chest. “Thank you Hulk.”

 

“Not strong like Hulk strong. But still good. Strong in heart.”

 

You’ve probably got a goofy smile on your face. You don’t care. It’s the nicest compliment you’ve been paid for a while. 

 

“Well, I have you to keep me safe, so I don’t have to be strong like you are, right?”

 

He seems to like that and puffs out his chest in pride. 

 

“Hulk keep safe. Protect.”

 

“I’m glad I have you Hulk,” you admit, before gently enquiring, “do you think you could let Bruce come back please?”

 

Hulk narrows his eyes, clearly not keen on it. 

 

“Next time I need protecting I’ll call for you, ok?”

 

“Bruce not strong like Hulk.”

 

“That’s okay too. Because I can protect him.”

 

The statement is considered for a moment. And then you watch as he begins to shrink, rapidly, and his greeness is replaced with Bruce’s beautiful skin - and uh, his shirt is still off. Bruce blinks rapidly, confused, clearly trying to piece things together. His eyes land on you and you can almost see the maths whizzing around his head. 

 

“Did he hurt you?” he asks, scanning you for injuries. You shake your head. 

 

“No. He was... quite reasonable actually. Do you feel okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He seems a bit more settled, and awkwardly crosses his arms in front of his chest to try and hide his nipples. “Did we, uh, win?”

 

You catch him up on the situation as you walk back down to ground level. You also let him know about your conversation with the Hulk which he seems kind of shocked about. 

 

“I guess everything worked out for the best then,” he summarises as you see the shapes of the other Avengers coming towards you in the dust. 

 

“Yeah, I guess.”

 

You’re about to turn to Tony when Bruce says your name. He’s got a hand on the back of his neck, eyes downcast, the epitome of when he’s feeling shy. 

 

“Do you. Uh. Want to get a drink sometime?”

 

You smile. 

 

“Of course.”

 

Everything  _ did  _ work out for the best. 

  
  
  


v.

The two of you don’t tell anyone else. It’s a little secret to share between you, hidden and sublime.  If anyone thinks it’s odd the two of you leave the Tower around dinner time a week later, both dressed up nicely, it’s not mentioned. 

 

You go for a drink in a private bar Bruce knows. Luckily the two of your faces aren’t well known enough to attract unwanted attention - you’re new to the team and Bruce is usually only shown as the Hulk. You’re allowed to sit quietly in the corner of the bar, a little booth, sharing a bottle of wine. And you talk and talk. A bit about work, and then your private lives. He’s had a hell of a time. When he talks about his father his eyes fall down, and you notice his hands shake slightly. You reach out and take one across the table. He runs his thumb over yours and you shiver. 

 

You drink more, probably more than you should, and decide to take a walk together. 

 

New York is New York, and it’s wild, but most beautifully it's anonymous. You stumble through the streets and at some point you decide you’re hungry so Bruce buys you a container of nachos from a food truck. Together you sit in the quietest area of a park, swaying gently. You’re a bit too drunk and a bit too bold, and you see how many chips you can float over to his open mouth.

 

“Padmé,” you say in your best pining voice. 

 

“Did you  _ really  _ just make a Star Wars reference?” he asks through a snort. 

 

“Maybe I did, you scruffy looking nerf herder,” you reply. 

 

“Who’s’ scruffy looking?” he shoots back and it’s so spot on you start laughing so hard the rest of the nachos float in the air and scatter around you like underwhelming confetti of which pigeons immediately take advantage.

 

When you arrive back, you invite him to your room for another drink and then the two of you are on your sofa, half a bottle of Pinot Grigio down and laughing Too Loudly. 

 

You’ve only got the coffee table lamp on so the lighting in the room is dim and orange. It hits Bruce’s curls just right, and they light up like heaven sent him. 

 

“I can’t believe you talked the  _ Hulk _ down. Trying to have a conversation with him is like… uh…”

 

“Trying to find a simile when you’re drunk?” you laugh. 

 

“Yeah. Frustrating and pointless,” he surmises. 

 

“But you’re cute when you’re frustrated. You pout.”

 

“I  _ pout?! _ ” he looks on the verge of horrified and you curl up in peals of laughter. When you finish, he’s watching you, a little smile on his face. Is he closer than before?

 

“And you’re cute when you laugh,” he says quietly, voice low. Something begins to change in the air between the two of you. 

 

“Well. I laugh a lot more now than when I first joined. I’m not scared all the time. Mostly.”

 

“You’re… indomitable.”

 

He gives you the oddest compliments but you still feel your face burn from it. 

 

“Bruce, can I tell you a secret?”

 

“Yeah,” he says, brushing a hair off your forehead. His touch is like electricity across your skin. 

 

“I want to kiss you.”

 

And then he’s pulling your face to his and you  _ are  _ kissing him, deep and hot. You’re warm from the wine and his words and the confidence is overflowing, and you climb into his lap. His hands settle on your hips and you can feel your teeth clack together but you just push your bodies together harder. 

 

“We should stop,” he says, breathlessly, and you do. 

 

“What’s the matter?”

 

“If we… uh, I might Hulk out,” he confesses. 

 

“Oh. That’s okay, we can go slow,” you reply, not quite sure where to put your hands. 

 

“I…”

 

“Bruce?”

 

“I don’t want you to think you owe me something, because we’re drunk and a new member of the team… there’s better options, better than me.”

 

His gaze has fallen from yours, and he sounds defeated. You furrow your brow, cup his jaw, and make him look back.

 

“Bruce. I don’t think I owe you anything. I think you’re a kind, sweet, brave man who I’ve had a crush on from day one. I think you’re a genius who helped design bracers to make my life a whole lot better. I think you have some shit you’ve been through but haven’t we all?”

 

“How did you know about…  _ Stark _ ,” he looks frustrated and pouts on cue. It makes you laugh. You kiss his cheek. 

 

“I’m glad he told me. Because now we’re here, right? And look, if you don’t wanna have sex, we don’t have to. But I  _ want  _ you. All of you.”

 

His eyes search your face for any hint of a lie, of hesitation, and when he finds none his lips surge back up into yours. You kiss him ferociously and your hands are at each other’s clothes, ripping and tearing to reveal soft hot skin. His mouth finds your neck and worships it with kisses and teeth and you moan into his shoulder. You find yourself between his legs, his thick cock out and standing to attention -  _ where were you hiding  _ that,  _ Dr Banner?!  _ \- and you’re running your tongue along the thick vein and he tastes like sweat and sex and oh god it’s good. 

 

“You gotta… slow down…” he pants, head thrown back in rapture, a look of concentration across his face. Trying to keep the other guy in. 

 

“If you Hulk out in my mouth you’re gonna break my jaw. And that’s an emergency room visit we’re  _ never  _ gonna be able to give down,” you reply matter of factly. He chokes out a laugh and you talk him through breathing deeply, until he’s calm and then he brings you up to sit on his face and he fucks your cunt with his tongue like he’s never gonna do it again. He has an arm clamped round either thigh and you cry out as you come all over him. You don’t have time to recuperate before he pushes you back into the couch even though the bed is right there, and kisses you wildly. 

 

“Have you got a condom?” he breathes heavily. 

 

“There’s one in my purse,” you say. He cocks an eyebrow at you, a little smug, and you flush. 

 

“I was hoping tonight would go well, okay?!”

 

He snorts and he sounds confident, proud. You like it. He rolls it onto his cock and pushes into you, and you’re so wet you put up no resistance. You throw your head back in rapture and cry out with every thrust. He fills you so deeply, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you, and a rough thumb seeking out your clit. 

 

“Come on. Give me another one,” he mutters, rubbing hard against your little bundle of nerves. 

 

“Bruce-” you choke and spasm around his cock. He comes quickly after you, hammering his hips into yours. You collapse on the sofa together, breathing heavily.

 

“Well, guess the rest of the team probably know we’re an item,” he says, mock-ruefully. 

 

“We’re an item?” you ask. He looks a bit panicked at his words. 

 

“Is… is that okay?”

 

“Duh,” you say, and kiss him until he’s hard again. 

  
  
  


vi.

Day to day, yours lives don’t change that much. You still work in the lab, toiling away at repairs and upgrades. Bruce keeps doing whatever project he’s working on. But at night rather than going to you separate rooms you’ll usually stay together, eating meals, watching movies. He gets stressed a lot but you’re always going there to tether him back to calmness. Your powers still fly out of control sometimes but he’s there to ground you. And slowly you fall irrevocably in love with him. 

 

“You and Bruce, huh?” Tony asks one day, when you’ve been a quiet couple for a couple of months. You snap your head to him and retort, “Yeah, and?”

 

He holds up his hands. “Nothing! I think you make a cute couple. You’re good for each other. You’ve come outta your shell a lot since you’ve been here you know. I think you’re what he needs.”

 

“Oh, so we have your blessing?” you ask, jokingly, and laugh when he presses his hands together and bows. 

 

“Always. Plus Clint owes me ten bucks because you got together before Christmas.”

 

“Don’t make bets on my relationship, Stark!” you shout but he’s already left the room. When you tell Bruce about it that evening you can see him blushing. 

 

“I guess they’re starved for gossip round here, huh?” he says, and he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed you try and kiss it off his face. 

 

It's… nice. There’s a couple more Hulk outs but each time you talk him down from it. You feel safe. 

 

It lasts for a while. 

 

“Who’s Thanos?” you ask. Everyone’s been gathered for a meeting, and everyone has faces full of concern. 

 

“A tyrant. A powerful one,” says Thor, his jaw clenched hard. 

 

“Unless we step in,” Tony adds. 

 

“We’ll be okay, right?” you ask. It’s directed to Bruce. He looks at you and sees the worry on your face, all he can do is nod. 

 

And it’s a  _ lie.  _

 

It isn’t okay. 

 

Because Thanos is a titan and he’s fucking  _ powerful.  _ Time and time again he bests your team. Stone after stone he ends up putting in that gauntlet. 

 

And of course you fight him, all of you.  He remembers you battling with all your might, more confident in your powers than you’ve ever been but it’s terrible to have to see you use them  _ now.  _

 

He remembers your voice crackling through the comms in the Hulkbuster. 

 

“Bruce?”

 

“Yeah? Yeah, sweetheart?” he asks, firing round upon round of ammo into the oncoming surge. 

 

“Bruce, I love you.”

 

He knows you mean it, and he knows why the first time you say it is now. Because you’re scared you won’t get to ever say it again. And he should say it back. He’s so taken aback he freezes, and his reply is just, “ah”.

 

And it’s the last fucking thing he says to you. 

 

He sees the horror etched on your face as he reaches into Vision’s head and rips out his mind, throbbing yellow and bright in his huge fingers. And then...

 

_ Snap.  _

 

It all happens in a moment. He sees you look at your hands, and how they begin to… disappear. 

 

“Bruce…” you say, and he’s out the Hulkbuster in a second, running to you, and you stagger towards him, but it’s hard to do when your body is falling apart. 

 

He manages to hold you for half a second before you turn to dust in his hands, and fly away into the wind. 

  
  
  


vii. 

People talk to him. 

 

He doesn’t hear them. 

 

He doesn’t… hear them. 

 

The last thing he said to you was “ah”. 

  
  
  
  


viii.

You’re gone. What can he do?

 

He leaves the Avengers Tower. It hurts too much to look at the kitchen and see your ghost putting too much milk into your Cheerios, to begin to call your name when he sees something funny on TV before choking it off sharply, to reach out to the other side of his bed and not touch your skin.

 

He works on himself. Making peace with the other side of him. The Hulk misses you too. If nothing else at least they have this to unite them now.

 

Looking at himself in the mirror, he thinks that he’s changed a lot in five years. Not just physically, although the extra couple of feet in height and greenness are certainly noticeable. He’s tried to become a better man. Less at war with himself. It’s what you’d want.

 

Seems he’s resigned to this new life.

 

And then Scott Lang comes to find him.

  
  
  
  
  


You breathe in harshly when you come back. You’ve not been there but you know the time has passed. The air tastes… different. 

 

Wanda is the first person you spot across the long abandoned battlefield. She must know what’s going on too - she’s looking at her hands like she can’t quite believe what’s happened. As soon as your eyes lock you see her begin to sob, and you are too. 

 

The two of you run into each other’s arms and cry. You’re getting snot in her hair but it’s okay because she’s probably getting it in yours too. She clutches you tightly. As if she can’t believe you’re both real, you’re  _ back.  _

 

“I’m sorry to cut this short. But we need your help.” 

 

You can place the voice vaguely, and the two of you turn to face Dr Strange, someone who you had a little contact with five years ago, when this all started off. 

 

Wanda takes your hand. You step through a portal and back into battle again. 

  
  
  
  


x.

It’s hard to adjust to life again. Things have… changed. People acted like for those who were snapped, everything should just be easy again. You weren’t there to try and live without everyone. But what people don’t think is that they’ve moved on from  _ you _ .

 

Your parents are glad you’re back but… they survived. They dealt with their grief and managed to move on. They embrace you and say they’re happy you’re back but you don’t fit into their lives any more. When you let yourself fall out of touch they don’t chase you. 

 

And then there’s the others.  Nat isn’t around to give you training advice, share a smile with. And of course you find yourself standing in the lab sometimes, looking at where you and Tony used to joke about. You think about how much he changed your life by bringing you here. You never really thanked him. You never even said goodbye. You never said goodbye and he was your  _ friend _ and that was taken away from you. 

 

It’s an empty life you’ve walked back to. 

 

You spend a lot of time with Wanda. She’s in the same boat. Lost. Some of the others, like Sam and Bucky, seem to have fitted themselves back into life better. But you haven’t. You and the Scarlet Witch sit quietly most days, finding solace in someone else so similar. You fall asleep in the same bed a couple of times when you tire from crying together. 

 

Guilt eats away at you because really, you should be getting your comfort from Bruce. 

 

You’ve only really looked at him once since you’ve been back. On the battlefield. He’d changed, and you’d find out later the extent of that. An extra couple of feet in height and a change in hue. He seemed happier in himself. Seems like he’d found peace without you too. Maybe he’d moved on. Who are you to drag him back into the past? You can’t do that. 

 

He tries to talk to you. At Tony’s funeral. He comes up and puts a hand on your shoulder, saying your name quietly. You shake him off and walk away. You can’t. You  _ can’t. _

 

A week passes. Two. You dodge every effort Bruce makes to talk to you. It breaks your heart but you don’t know how to be with him. The last thing you told him was you loved him and he didn’t say it back. 

 

_ It’s all empty.  _

 

A month passes. You stand on the balcony of your room in the Tower. A thick layer of dust has settled since you were gone. You guess nobody wanted to disturb it. You don’t come back here much anyway. But sometimes it’s lethargic to go back and pretend things are how they used to be. 

 

You feel a presence behind you. Bruce says your name gently. You wonder how he managed to get up so close without you noticing, but to be honest you haven’t been the most astute these days. It’s kinda hard to concentrate through the fog that’s been hanging. 

 

“Do you want me to get you a sweater? It’s cold out here,” he asks. You shake your head and don’t turn. He calls your name again, and there’s more desperation to it. 

 

“Look at me.  _ Please, _ ” he begs. His voice is so full of heartbreak, and you feel your eyes burn with tears. 

 

“I can’t,” you whisper. 

 

“Why?”

 

It’s like a dam breaks. You can feel hot tears running down your cheeks. 

 

“Because then I’ve got to accept it’s real. And I’m back. And everyone’s moved on and expects it to be… okay.”

 

“Sweetheart…” you feel him move towards you but you skirt back, vision blurring wildly as you cry. 

 

“No! Don’t tell me it’s going to be okay because it won’t! People keep talking like it’s a puzzle, and half the pieces were taken away, and now they’re back everything’s meant to fall back into place. But it’s not like that! It’s like… someone dropped a vase and it smashed. And no matter how hard you try to put everything back together you  _ can’t  _ because it just doesn’t look the same and some of the bits aren’t the right shape any more or they’re warped or some of them aren’t even fucking  _ there  _ any more because they’re lost! They’re…” you break down and choke into sobs, unable to keep going. You crush the meat of your palms into your eyes as you wail to desperately try and stop the tears. Arms gently envelop you and Bruce brings you to him, and you let yourself fall apart in his arms. 

 

“I’m sorry,” is all he can say. “I’m sorry.”

 

It isn’t enough, it can never be enough now. So all you can do is cry until you can’t any more. 

 

“I thought of you,” Bruce says after a moment of quiet. “Every day I thought of you.”

 

“You did? You didn’t… find someone else?” 

 

“What? Of course not. You were… are... the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

 

“But you…”

 

“Every time I think about that fight, I hate myself. I should have told you I loved you. Before.” 

 

“But there is no before anymore,” you reply, voice hoarse from crying, “There’s just the after. There’s just now.”

 

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

 

You notice you’ve stopped crying. You’re just content to stand here, in Bruce’s arms. He’s warm. It’s nice. It makes you feel… safe.

 

“If I told you I loved you now, would it be too late?” he sounds nearly hesitant, as if he isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer. To be honest, you’re not sure yourself. But after all this, after everything, don’t the two of you deserve a little softness?

 

“I don’t think it would be too late.”

 

“I love you.”

 

And then you move out of his arms and he goes to come after you, but all you’re doing is pulling back enough so that you can reach for his collar and push his lips to yours. The kiss is wet from the tears that still stain your cheeks but he doesn’t seem to care, because you can feel his mouth moving against yours. It’s odd, a little awkward, just because of the size of him now, you’re not quite sure where is best to kiss. But it works and you tug him after you so that he’s pinning you against the balcony railings. His hands grasp tightly at you, one on your waist and one on your back, and you feel so small next to him. So small and safe.

 

“You’re… we…” Bruce pants after a moment, breaking the contact between the two of you. 

 

“I want to,” you say, and it’s like your first time again. Bruce scours your eyes for any hint of hesitation but there isn’t. You need something, something physical from someone you love, something to anchor you back here. You need to feel skin on skin and the heat of it all, anything to help you feel less  _ empty.  _

 

You kiss him again, wrapping your arms around his thick neck, and you open your mouth to let him touch your tongue with his. It only encourages him to kiss you harder and you bury your hands in his hair, and you feel your nose crushed up against his cheek, but you don’t care.

 

You’re moving and you realise he’s picked you up now, carrying you bridal-style back inside, kicking the balcony door closed with one foot behind him. He brings you down onto the bed and a cloud of dust puffs up around you and you squeak out a sneeze and he laughs and then he’s right back to kissing you.

 

“Touch me,” you beg against his lips, and he does. His hands move down your curves and grab at your waist before gently pushing up your shirt. Bigger hands than you remember but still soft and gentle on you. As if he’s worried he’ll hurt you. Nothing else can be further from what you care about right now, and you dig your hands into the muscles you can feel in his back, urging him to do  _ more.  _

 

Bruce lets out a little huff at the feel of it, and in return pushes against you harder. It makes you groan. You can feel where he’s beginning to become hard, giving little involuntary grinds of his hips up into you. Of course the way he looks now… he must be bigger in  _ all  _ ways, huh? You relish the thought of his cock being inside you.

 

He’s so large now that undressing him is a bit of an awkward dance, but when you begin to pull his shirt up he gets the message and pulls it off, throwing it over to the side of the room to be forgotten. You do the same, whipping off everything on your top half, to leave you exposed to the night air, and to him. Your nipples perk both at the cold bite and at his attention. Bruce makes a low noise in his throat and runs his tongue gently over the stiffening nubs before teasing them with his teeth, catching one and pulling it a little before releasing it, puffed and sore. It’s delicious, and you take your time to run your hands over him, exploring the new plains of his body. The same old Bruce you knew and loved, a lot more bang for your buck.

 

It’s almost out of character when he takes down your fly and pushes his hand into your pants and up against your folds. You whine and keel under him as he tests you, rolling a huge finger over your cunt. 

 

“You’re so wet,” he breathes in your ear and you buck up your hips into his hand.

 

“I want you inside me,” you state, no time to waste. In another time he’d snicker and tease, but now he’s feeling this just as urgently again. So he pushes up into you, breaching you knuckle by knuckle, until his middle finger is sheathed inside. It’s almost as big as his cock used to be and your mouth stays hung open as you whine in rapture at the fullness. He slowly begins to move, dragging out and pushing back inmand you feel the nudge of a second at your entrance too. It’s a bit of a tighter squeeze to get the second one in but you’re so wet, so  _ fucking  _ wet it barely hurts for a second. 

 

Bruce has dragged your jeans off your hips and you’re lying there, bare under him as he fucks you with his hand. His glasses are fogging up and you want to remark on how cute it is but your finger-stuffed pussy is taking up all of your concentrating power. He moves another giant hand onto you, the fingers splayed over your stomach while his thumb is able to get to your clit which he pushes firmly against. You cry out and grab onto his wrist for dear life and let him fuck you like this until you come over him. 

 

As he pulls out you feel boneless and still thoroughly soaked but you don’t have any time to consider it, because Bruce pulls down his pants and you see his new dick for the first time.

 

It’s fucking  _ huge.  _ At least the length of your forearm and thicker than your fist. If it wasn’t now maybe you’d have second thoughts, but at the moment… you just want him to fuck you. You reach out and try and wrap a hand round it, running a thumb over the velvety head and collecting some of the precome there. Bruce lets out a low sound in the back of his throat at the feel of you.

 

“Five years. I’ve missed you for five years,” he tells you, voice low and gravelly form arousal. 

 

“I know, baby. I know.”

 

“I love you,” he says, taking his cock in his own hand, and aligning it with your entrance. He moves to lay his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes, trying to take this all in, afraid to look away and have this not be real. Like this, his whole body covers your tiny frame. You engulf his mouth in another kiss and he pushes at your opening with the head.

 

“Gah-” you choke as he enters you. You grab onto him for dear life as he slowly keeps going, inch by inch. It fucking  _ burns  _ and you love it. It reminds you you’re alive again, held by someone you love. It’s so big you have no idea how the fuck he’s fitting inside you and also how the fuck he keeps having more to put  _ in,  _ jesus christ. 

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Fucking fantastic,” and you laugh for the first time since you’ve come back. Bruce smiles and you finally feel him bottom out.

 

You look down and see the shape of his cock inside you. Gently he tips your chin away from the sight, maybe worried it will make you uncomfortable, but you honestly don’t care. You give your hips an experimental wiggle and Bruce groans. Then he takes your lead and begins to fuck you, slowly, inch by glorious inch coming out, and then pushing back in. Your cunt gets wetter to allow for it and you’re so blissed out it’s hard to concentrate. Every drag of him is exquisite and sends lightning up your body.

 

You become aware of Bruce saying your name, and snap out of your euphoria just long enough for him to make you aware that all the furniture in the room is levitating.

 

“Fuck it,” you reply, bringing him back down for another kiss. He begins to move his hips faster now and you can feel the emptiness he leaves behind each time he moves out, and the way his balls slap against your ass as he drives back in. You’re stretched so wide you’ll be ruined for anyone else, but you don’t care, because he’s all you want. Just him. 

 

“I love you,” you say between kisses. 

 

You come again, messily, all over his cock, and he follows soon after with juddering snaps of his hips. He fills you up with jets of hot come, so much of it you feel it leaking out around where you’re still fit together. With a crash all the furniture in the room hits the ground, undoubtedly causing thousands of dollars worth of damage.

 

You don’t care.

 

He goes to pull out and you wave him off, so instead he holds you to him and moves so you’re laying on his chest, locked together still in an intimate embrace.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” Bruce asks, running a hand through your hair. 

 

“I’m fine. For the first time in a while, I think,” you say. Knowing that despite everything, and thinking your heart was broken, there was still this beautiful, kind man holding onto a piece of it for you until you got back.

 

“I know it will take a while. But I’ll be with you until it gets better,” he says, quietly, a promise between the two of you.

  
  
  


xi.

And it does get better.


End file.
